Feelings
by Healer Pomfrey
Summary: Hermione ends up in the hospital wing shortly before the NEWTs, being taken care of by Severus Snape. A pointless, fluffy drabble, completely AU, partly OOC, partly Animagus story, changing POVs, sick!Hermione, sick!Severus.


**Feelings**

**by Healer Pomfrey**

_All recognizable characters belong to J. K. Rowling, and I am not earning anything by writing this story._

_I am not a native speaker of English. Please excuse my mistakes!_

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_Warning: A plot-less fluff, written during a sleepless night, when I wasn't feeling well. Only read if you have nothing better to read ;-)  
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Hermione observed worriedly how Harry wiped beads of sweat from his forehead and groaned in apparent annoyance when Professor Snape with a flick of his hand moved the liquid from the cauldron that they had worked on during the last thirty minutes.

"Harry, are you feeling all right?" she asked in concern, giving him a sharp look.

"Yeah, of course, it's just awfully warm here," Harry replied, once again running his hand over his sweaty forehead.

"Warm? Here?" Hermione repeated in disbelief. "Harry, this is about the only room in the whole school, which is pleasantly cool. Are you sick?"

"No no, it's all right," Harry mumbled, causing Hermione to let out a snort, not believing a word.

"Ms. Granger and Mr. Potter, detention tonight at 7 o'clock sharp," Snape drawled, before he instructed the rest of the class to put their phials on his desk and dismissed them.

'_That's exactly what I needed now,'_ Hermione inwardly groaned but pricked her ears, when Harry protested, "But Professor, today is Ron's birthday party."

"I don't care," the Potions Master hissed and turned his back to them.

"Don't say anything else," Hermione whispered to Harry, and the two seventh years hurriedly left the room.

Hermione watched Harry the whole day in concern. His cheeks were deeply flushed and his eyes, which were surrounded by dark rings, looked glazed over and sick. She stood from her seat in the common room and walked around the table, where she, Ron, and Harry had just sat down. "I'm sorry, Harry," she said softly, firmly placing the back of her hand on his forehead. "Come with me," she instructed him and strode ahead towards the boys' dormitory.

Harry and Ron exchanged a confused look but followed their friend, knowing that the young witch would not leave them in peace, before she had achieved what she wanted. She made Harry lie down on his bed and took his temperature, which was very high. "Harry, I'm going to fetch Madam Pomfrey," she said, horrified.

"No Hermione, don't. I can't miss the detention with Snape," Harry objected. "He'd never believe that I'm sick today, when we have detention with him."

"Madam Pomfrey will make him believe," Hermione said firmly, rolling her eyes.

However, Harry reached for her arm. "No," he said firmly. "Please don't. I promise that I'll go to see Pomfrey when I still have a fever in the morning. Please wake me up, before we have to leave for the detention."

"All right," Hermione gave in and motioned for Ron to head to dinner alone. "I'll stay with Harry."

By the time they headed to the Potions classroom, Harry unconsciously leaned on Hermione's arm, making the young witch worry even more. Fortunately, Snape didn't let them wait long but opened the door shortly after Hermione knocked. The professor instructed them to brew the potion, which they had not managed to brew in the morning.

"Professor," Hermione hesitantly began to speak, seeing that Harry held on to the edge of the table to steady himself. "I don't think that Harry is in any condition to brew. He is running a high fever."

Harry cast her an angry glare, when the teacher stepped over to him and felt his forehead. "Potter, why are you not in the hospital wing?" he asked sharply.

"It's not so bad," Harry hesitantly replied, breathing heavily.

"I disagree. Come with me," Snape ordered him and turned to Hermione. "Ms. Granger, you're dismissed," he said in a soft voice, before he led Harry out of the room.

'_No, I won't just return to the common room. I want to know what's wrong with Harry,'_ Hermione thought, unobtrusively following the strange pair to the hospital wing.

"Mr. Potter, I'm afraid you will have to stay here for a while," Snape said in a voice that held no malice as he opened the door to the hospital wing and led Harry to the bed right next to Madam Pomfrey's office. "You seem to be very ill." He interrupted himself, seeing that Hermione had followed them. "Ms. Granger, what are you doing here?" he asked sternly.

"I was just worried about Harry and wanted to know what's wrong with him," Hermione replied softly. "Shall I fetch Madam Pomfrey?"

"Yes please," the professor replied, tucking Harry in before he followed Hermione into the office.

"I think Madam Pomfrey is sick as well," Hermione informed him, pointing to the Mediwitch, who was sitting at her desk with her head resting on the table.

"Poppy, are you ill?" Snape asked in his soft, baritone voice, which Hermione liked so much.

"I'm afraid so, but it's not so bad," Pomfrey replied hoarsely.

"I heard that before," Snape said dryly, placing a cold hand on her forehead. "Come and lie down in the bed next to Potter. "Ms. Granger, please fetch two thermometers for me. They should be in the shelf over there," he instructed his student, before he led his colleague to the empty bed next to Harry's.

"What's wrong with Mr. Potter?" Pomfrey croaked. "I must..."

"Poppy, you must do nothing, except for getting well soon," Snape replied gently. "I think it might be pneumonia, but first of all we need to see what's wrong with you, before I decide if you may check on Potter or not." Before she could protest, he slid a thermometer into her mouth. "She must be very ill; otherwise, she'd have killed me with her glare," he commented the lack of reaction in a low voice only for Hermione to hear.

Hermione looked at him astonished and her surprise even tenfold as she observed how carefully the professor opened Harry's clothes and stuck the thermometer under his arm so as to not have to wake up the sick boy. "I need to use the stethoscope to check on his lungs, so I had to open his robes anyway," he explained in a soft voice.

Hermione suddenly felt very warm and happy. '_He is so caring_,' she thought. '_I wished he would touch me so carefully. What I pity that I'm not sick in Harry's place_.' She sat in the chair that the professor pushed over to her and thought, '_Oh Merlin, I'm getting crazy. Even if I have a crush on the professor, he'd never pay any attention to me anyway_.' She watched how Snape listened to Harry's breathing, took his pulse, fastened a small chip to Harry's small finger and finally took back the thermometer, frowning at the reading. Then he went to check on his colleague and sighed.

"Poppy, you're as ill as Mr. Potter. Do you have an idea what you might have?" he asked, while he felt her pulse.

"Maybe we both got it from Hagrid. He had the hippogriff flu last week, and Hermione and Harry found him and called me when he was ill," his colleague croaked. "The symptoms are similar to that of pneumonia, the incubation period is between one and two weeks, and the illness lasts about two weeks." She let out a few harsh coughs and closed her eyes in exhaustion. "You should check on Ms. Granger and keep her here in quarantine," she mumbled. "All three of us took the preventive potion," she mumbled. "I have no idea why it didn't work."

"Perhaps because you got in contact with the illness before taking the potion," Snape replied kindly. "All right, Poppy. Don't worry. I'm going to put all three of you under quarantine and look after you," he reassured her in a soft voice. "Although I still have to teach my classes. Did the flu potion work in Hagrid's case?"

"Yes," the Mediwitch croaked. "We need it every four hours and a fever reducer all four to six hours, depending on how high the fever is. I'm sorry, Severus."

"It's not your fault, Poppy," the Potions Master replied astoundingly gently and turned to Hermione. "Ms. Granger, please make yourself comfortable in the next bed. I'll be back shortly."

'_But I'm completely well," _Hermione thought in surprise as she lay down in the third bed. She was pulled out of her thoughts, when she felt Snape's cold on her forehead. The professor held a thermometer out to her. "Please take your temperature. I'll be with you in a moment."

Hermione obeyed, and while she waited for the beeping of the annoying device, she observed how the professor gave his colleague and Harry their potions. '_The two of them seem to be very ill_,' she thought. '_I'm glad that I'm healthy_.' She smiled when the professor pulled himself a chair next to her bed and took her wrist to check her pulse with his cool, soft hands. '_Feels good,_' she thought, _'and he smells of herbs so wonderfully. _She was almost disappointed when the thermometer beeped and the teacher let go off her hand to check her temperature.

"Ms. Granger, your temperature is slightly elevated as well, even if you don't have a fever, at least not yet," he said thoughtfully. "Do you feel ill?"

"No," Hermione replied. '_I only have a crush. I wished he would stay with me like this the whole night_.'

"Very well then," Snape said in determination. "I'm going to keep you here in quarantine in any case. Please remain in bed. I will inform Professor McGonagall."

Hermione brought herself into a sitting position, unwilling to let the professor leave yet. "Professor," she spoke up hesitantly, "is there anything I can do to help you? I really feel fine."

The Potions Master cast her a sharp look and glanced at his wrist watch, sighing. "Perhaps you could watch Madam Pomfrey and Mr. Potter for a moment? I need to fetch a pile of parchments from my office, which I must grade. If you're very bored, you're welcome to help me grading homework." He smirked, apparently not expecting Hermione's reply, in spite of having known her since she had been eleven.

"Of course; I'd love to help with the grading, if you deem me able to do so, sir," Hermione replied eagerly, looking up to him in delight.

Snape merely nodded and strode into Pomfrey's office, where he stepped into the fireplace and vanished from the sight. '_Only a month until the NEWTs are over, and then I won't be a student anymore. Perhaps I should accept the position that_ _Professor McGonagall offered. Then I could see Snape every day,'_ Hermione mused, before the Potions Master's return interrupted her thoughts.

"Are you sure that you want to assist, and are you feeling well enough?" the professor asked gentler than he had ever before spoken with her.

"Of course," Hermione said eagerly, quickly getting out of the bed to prove how fit she was.

"Very well then, let's sit in Madam Pomfrey's office," Snape decided. "You can correct the first and second years' homework if you wish. However, only if you promise to inform me immediately if you feel even the slightest bit unwell."

"No problem," Hermione said, smiling, and set to work. She had to admit to herself that it was fun to correct the younger students' work, and she enjoyed to sit next to the professor and work together with him, although he did not talk at all but concentrated on his work. Three hours later, she pushed the second pile away. "The first and second years' homework is finished," she said, noticing horrified that her voice sounded slightly hoarse and her throat was beginning to hurt.

Snape glanced at his wrist watch. "Ms. Granger, thank you very much for your help. It is nearly eleven o'clock, and you should go to bed. I must check on my two patients anyway, and I'd like to check your temperature once again. Are you still feeling well?"

'_His eyes are not cold; they're warm and caring_,' Hermione thought. Unable to lie to the man, to whom these wonderful eyes belonged, she admitted, "I have a bit of a headache, but it's not so bad."

Snape raised an eyebrow, eyeing her critically. Hermione couldn't prevent herself from blushing and inwardly groaned at herself. '_I hope he won't notice or believes that it comes from the fever_,' she thought. Only when she rose from the chair, she noticed that she felt dizzy and quickly grabbed the edge of the table, an action that did not go unnoticed by the observant professor.

"Lean onto my arm, Ms. Granger. I am afraid that you caught it as well," he said in his soft, baritone voice, which Hermione loved so much. Snape led her to her bed and waved his wand over her, transfiguring her school attire into comfortable silk pyjamas.

"Thank you, Professor," Hermione said gratefully, sighing in relief as she lay down. She suddenly began to shiver, when the teacher shoved a thermometer into her mouth. "Too cold," she mumbled, taking out the cold, glassy stick. Before the professor could scold her, she pulled her right arm out of the pyjamas and stuck the old Muggle device under her arm. She contentedly registered that the professor sat on the chair next to her bed and observed her in apparent concern.

"Ms. Granger, I'd like to do a quick examination. Unfortunately, I do not have sufficient experience in Healing; therefore, I can only use Muggle methods," he said softly.

"Okay," Hermione mumbled, enjoying the cold touch when the professor felt her neck and carefully listened to her lungs with his stethoscope. "Feels good," she whispered, feeling his ice-cold hand on her breast.

Before Snape could reply, the thermometer beeped. He held out his hand, waiting for Hermione to hand him the device. However, the student kept her eyes closed and did not show any reaction, so that he had to reach for the thermometer himself. As soon as Hermione felt his hand, which for once was not holding the stethoscope, she reached for it and led it over her breast. "Feels good," she whispered again. "I love you, Professor."

Snape carefully freed himself from her grip and snatched the thermometer back. "Ms. Granger," he said sternly. "You are delirious. You can be glad that I believe your high fever to be responsible for this and won't take house-points from Gryffindor."

During the next few days, Hermione's fever stayed high, and she felt absolutely miserable. Nonetheless, she enjoyed the moments, during which Professor Snape was at her side and checked on her. '_Thank Merlin he doesn't seem to be angry about what I said to him_,' she thought, realising that he behaved as friendly as he had done on her first evening in the hospital wing. '_Perhaps he likes me, too, at least a tiny little bit,' _she mused._ 'He always stays longer with me than with Harry or Madam Pomfrey, and they're as sick as I am_.'

A week later, her fever finally broke, and she decided to speak with the professor about the matter. "Professor," she hesitantly began to speak, while he leaned over her, listening to her lungs. "What I said the other day was not because of the fever. I really love you," she whispered, anxiously glancing up into his face.

Snape's face did not show any emotion whatsoever when he coaxed a thermometer into her mouth, efficiently shutting her up. He stepped to the window and looked outside for a moment, only returning to her bedside when the reading was finished. "38.2," he read from the display. "Your fever seems to finally come down, and your lungs sound better, too. Nevertheless, you'll still have to remain here for a few more days."

"I'd love to," Hermione replied, smiling at the professor.

"Ms. Granger," he said, sighing. "I am a professor here, and you are my student. It should be evident that such kind of relationship is not allowed between teachers and students."

"But in two weeks' time, the exams are over, and then I won't be a student anymore," Hermione replied. Her eyes filled with tears, when Snape left the spot next to her bed and retreated to Pomfrey's office. _'And I thought he likes me, too,'_ she thought as she began to cry, not even realising that she aggravated her condition by making herself so upset.

HP

When the professor returned in the morning and checked on Hermione, her fever had risen to more than forty degrees again, and it remained high during the following days, although Harry and Madam Pomfrey were feeling better by the day. When Snape released Harry from the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey asked, "Severus, how is Ms. Granger?"

Snape let out a long sigh. Poppy was still not well enough to bother her with stories about her patients; however, he was so helpless in Ms. Granger's case, and he was very worried about the young witch. Therefore, he decided to share his problem with the Mediwtich.

Pomfrey laid her still warm hand on his. "Severus," she said, smiling. "How do you feel? Do you have feelings for Ms. Granger?"

Severus felt the heat stream into his face, and he was sure that it was not only a result of the fever that he had been running for unknown reasons since the previous evening. "I can't deny that I... have some kind of feelings for her," he admitted, whispering, so that only Poppy could hear him. Even when he had been a student, she had been the one, who had always listened to him, and no one knew him better than her.

"Severus, listen to your feelings," the Mediwitch said softly, "so that you don't have to regret it like with Lily at that time. Next week, the exams are going to begin, and afterwards, she won't be your student anymore. Apart from that, Minerva has offered for her to become her successor, but apparently Ms. Granger has not decided yet." She looked at Severus, noticing that his eyes were glazed over and surrounded by dark rings. With a no-nonsense voice, she queried, "Severus, what is wrong with you? You don't look well."

The Potions Master rolled his eyes. "Two Hufflepuff students were here with a bad ear infection. I'm not sure what exactly it was, but it went away with ear salve and fever reducers. In my case it seems to take longer, but it's not too bad."

Pomfrey let out a long sigh. "Severus, I am well enough to get up for a while and perform diagnostic spells."

"No Poppy, you know as well as I do that you must not do any magic at all as long as you're running a fever," her younger colleague disagreed.

Pomfrey sighed again and said firmly, "All right, but let me quickly check on you and Ms. Granger."

"You don't have to bother with me, but I'd be grateful if you could take a look at Ms. Granger," Severus replied slowly.

Alone the tone of his voice told the Mediwitch that her colleague was not feeling well, as well as the fact that he remained seated in the chair next to her bed and observed how she checked on the student. Pomfrey thoughtfully headed to her office and chose a few potions; however, she placed them back into the shelf, deciding to check on the professor first. She handed Severus a thermometer, receiving a half-hearted glare in return.

Severus couldn't deny that he felt more miserable by the hour. While he impatiently waited for the reading to finish, he realised that he could barely keep himself upright anymore. '_I need to lie down as long as I can_,' he thought, feeling like he was moving although he wasn't. He closed his eyes, noticing that it was becoming difficult to breathe. He heard Poppy speak to him, but her voice sounded like from far away. Something ice-cold on his forehead brought him back to reality. To his surprise, he found himself in the bed next to Hermione's. "What?" he asked in confusion, seeing Poppy hover over him with a concerned expression on her face. She looked absolutely exhausted.

"Severus, you just fainted," she said softly. "My diagnostic spell told me that you caught the hippogriff flu from us. Absolute bed rest for you until I tell you otherwise."

Severus groaned but felt miserable enough to accept the order. He closed his eyes, waiting for the potions to take effect.

HP

"Madam Pomfrey, is Professor Snape all right?" Hermione asked worriedly, having watched in concern how the Mediwitch hovered the seemingly unconscious teacher in the bed next to her.

"He is as ill as you are, dear," Pomfrey said in a soft voice, sitting on the chair next to Hermione's bed to rest for a moment. "He'll be fine by the end of the school year at the latest."

'_Oh no; I didn't want him to get sick_,' Hermione thought sadly and asked, "Madam Pomfrey, is there anything I could do to make him feel better?"

"No Ms. Granger, try to get well quickly; he'll just have to wait it out," the Mediwitch replied in a gentle voice. "I'll go back to bed for a while. Wake me up if you need me or if you notice that Professor Snape needs me. I'd place an alarm on the two of you, but I feel quite drained after using magic on Professor Snape earlier."

"No problem," Hermione replied kindly, resolving to try to stay awake. '_Maybe I can do something to make him feel better_,' she mused, suddenly feeling very excited.

When she heard Pomfrey's breathing even out, knowing that she had to be asleep, Hermione dragged herself out of her bed and fetched a wet towel from the Mediwitch's office, before she sat on the edge of the sleeping professor' bed. She carefully bathed his cheeks that seemed dark red in contrast to his otherwise extremely pale face, feeling very sorry for the older wizard. In shock, she listened to the professor, when he suddenly began to mumble something like, "No, so cold, please don't throw me into the lake."

'_If he feels so cold, I need to warm him_,' she thought and, completely forgetting about his order to not do any magic before she was told otherwise, transformed into her cat Animagus form. '_Thank Merlin no one except for Harry and Ron know that I'm an Animagus_,' she mused as she jumped onto the bed and snuggled against the professor's chest, sighing happily when Snape unconsciously stroked her fur with his hands. '_Feels good_,' she thought, '_even if his hands aren't cold and I'm a cat_.'

During the next few days, Hermione spent as much time as possible in her cat form, joining the professor in his bed. However, it became difficult when Madam Pomfrey was back to health and bustling around the hospital wing, keeping a close eye on her patients most part of the day. Only during the nights she could transform and spend a few hours with the professor, wondering what was going to happen when he would feel better. '_I don't think he'd cuddle with a cat if he wasn't delirious_,' she thought sadly.

HP

One night, the Potions Master woke up, feeling significantly better. However, there was still the cat in his bed, which he had always dreamt of, when he drifted in and out of his fevered dreams. '_I thought I was getting better. Am I still delirious?_' he wondered. Seeing that the Mediwitch was nowhere to be seen, he decided to transform into his lynx form and speak with the cat. He liked it. It was a wonderful marmalade cat with very cute, chocolate brown eyes. '_Somewhere I have seen these eyes before_,' he thought but couldn't recall the details. =Hello there,= he addressed the cat in a soft voice, gently licking her cheek. =What are you doing in my bed?= '_She must be real_,' he thought, '_or can a magical lynx be delirious? She feels like a cat_.'

=Hi, I'm sorry for intruding. You seemed to be cold, and I came to warm you, but it feels so good cuddling with you,= the smaller cat replied in an equally soft voice and gently began to lick his fur.

Severus couldn't help feeling extremely comfortable cuddling with his feline friend. He contentedly began to purr as they both drifted off to sleep. They only woke up several hours later, when the Mediwitch entered the hospital wing and asked in an upset voice, "Severus, have you seen Ms. Granger? I was going to release both of you tonight, but I can't have people release themselves from my wing."

Before the two cats could show any reaction whatsoever, Pomfrey looked at Severus' bed, taking in the two Animagi, who were cuddling with each other. Her features softened as understanding set in, and her frown slowly turned into a smile. "Oh well then, get some more sleep," she said in a quiet voice and returned to her office.

**The End**

_Please don't kill me for ending this here. The following is up to your imagination, or maybe, I'll write a second chapter in another sleepless night. Do you want them to get together or not?  
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